Go Left
by Kino46
Summary: Here were her options: Get eaten by a zombie and die. Jump from the bridge and die. Run for her life and die. Try fighting all these things and die. Or, you know, die. There was always that option. Ah, well, you know what they say: 'When life isn't going right, go left.' (Disclaimer: I own nothing but my shoes)


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I have no regrets.

(please be aware this contains much violence, zombies, blood, zombies, and humans-turning-into-zombies)

* * *

It grabbed her leg. Fish stabbed the thing through its oily, black eyes. She yanked her pipe out a moment later to bust in the skull of another one, right where its ripped ear blended into pale, veiny skin, and then she was leaping over the body and slamming into another. The snap and groan of its broken teeth was loud beside her neck. She smashed her palm into its peeling chin, flipping the thing's head around, but it continued to bite at her. Half its human face was gone; just skull and bits of flesh left from when it'd been chewed away by another of these monsters. Fish, reeling from the attack, stabbed it once with her bloodied pipe before rolling beneath a screeching semi-truck flipping down the street.

The sky was filled with smoke and screams, much like the city streets, the park, the underground tunnels. Fish was running by one of those tunnels. Inside there was fire and growls and broken bones and lots of those _things._ Fish was supposed to be running anyway—it was Friday. Skipping school day; thus, time to run. She was even in her jogging pants, and her sports bra. Thing is, she was supposed to be running around the park, not beside the tunnel, and not away from the crazy human-like creatures biting at her heels.

She wheeled and kicked the shoulder of the things doing just that. It went flying, and blood went flying, and it landed in a bloody, wet thump before rising on two hands and carrying its upper half toward her. Which was creepy as hell because _it only had an upper half_. And it kinda looked like the Snack Bar's manager, in a veiny, black-bubble-eyed kinda way, but really, anything would be scary if it only had from its chest up and it was clawing after you.

Fish continued running. Where she was headed she had no clue, but being in one spot was definitely not a good idea. Beneath her shoes, the pavement slapped loud. Occasionally she splashed through a puddle of gasoline or lost groceries or organs. Occasionally she rammed her trusty, good ol' pipe through the skull of another non-dying creature. Occasionally she got the hit right and it did die—or, at least, it stopped moving, but that was only if she literally broke off its brain. Not too long back she'd heard about things like these: zombies. At least, Carrot called them that. Now Carrot was lying dead by that crooked bench in the park, and there was a tree branch waving through her chest, pinning her to that crooked bench, but that wasn't important anymore. What was important was to keep moving.

So keep moving Fish did.

Right past her favorite store, right down her favorite neighborhood, along her favorite school, over her favorite bridge. Many times she saw her friends. They waved clawed hands at her so she waved back, gleefully calling their names—or the names she made up 'cause she couldn't remember their real ones-and continued running. Her middle school homeroom teacher tried to stop her at one point. She was always a stickler about stepping on the grass. Fish laughed an apology, punched her in the face, listened as the woman's bones snapped into her brain, and laughed again.

"Fish!"

At the call she stopped short and caught sight of one of her friends, a tall kid who had no qualms fighting a girl. He waved at her from the school Gardening Shed's roof with that funny half-grin he always wore. Fish matched his grin happily and sprung up to the school windows. Scuttling up the grooves in the walls, she popped over the top, flattening her back on the solid metal roof for a deep breather she definitely needed. Still grinning, she scanned over her buddy.

"Fun day, huh?" she chirped.

"Oh yeah, the best. Woke up and dad's biting mom and all my buddies are chomping each other's heads off." His smile fell flat as he leaned on his hands, glaring at the smoky, scream filled sky. There was a big bloody scab on his forehead and a couple scratches on his shoulders. His uniform's jacket had rips and his pants were a little scuffed, and he only had one shoe, but he seemed fine. He flicked his funny eyes toward her, then he lunged, snagging Fish's arm to fling her away from her P.E. teacher's grabby hands.

The P.E. teacher was a seven foot tall monster that was very near the sassiest thing she'd ever talked too. Fish liked him. So when his buggy eyes settled on her friend the same moment his teeth settled around his arm, Fish broke his nose. With her pipe. It was a heavy enough swing to bash in most of her teacher's face, and she was quick to follow it up with cracking her pipe across his receding hairline. She watched the body fall.

There was a splash of movement as a bloody, one armed woman stumbled close. Her History teacher, Fish identified her as. The woman dropped onto the downed P.E. teacher, probably because they'd had what Carrot had called a 'fling', not that either would ever admit it. Fish turned back to her friend and eyed the bloody spouts pouring out his arm.

"Any different from when Barbie bit ya?" she asked while pulling a switchblade from her bra. Her friend let off a high pitched whine in return, eyes rolling back in his head.

He convulsed, shaking, but managed to squeeze out, "just a...little different. Do me a favor an..."

When he convulsed a second time, Fish dropped at his side and took his arm. There was a tiny match of strength 'cause he wasn't willing to give her his arm, but when she jammed her knee in his shoulder he relented. Half-smiling, she scanned the bloody gap missing on his forearm with careful eyes before finally saying, "my switch ain't big enough for this, Twig."

His name wasn't really Twig. She knew that. He knew that. He gave her a funny, contorted, sweaty look. "Hurts like a-" he cut off with a cough and his eyes rolled back again. She watched him, still that odd half-smile on her lips, until veins started popping along his neck. Then she frowned.

"Twig, I'm gonna kill you now," she told him. He didn't respond, just started thrashing in her hold. So without another word she plunged her switchblade through his temple twice in quick succession. It was bloody and it messed on her running pants. Below, she could hear her History teacher becoming bored with the P.E. teacher, which was bad because that lady really hated it when people messed with the Gardening Shed. Fish moved when she heard claws on the walls. Her switch was returned to her bra and her pipe returned to her hand, and then, as Fish started to jump from the roof, she stopped.

There was no reason to leave the roof. With that in mind, she lay back beside Twig, careful of his bloodstains, and stared at the sky. It burned orange and black. She could hear so many screams still, and crashes of cars, and fires cackling madly, and the deranged mutterings of the zombies because yes, they could still talk, kinda. Fish snorted, sat back up.

Her History teacher was climbing the walls.

Blood went flying.

* * *

HAHAHAHAHAHA

Still no regrets


End file.
